


nonsensical curiosity

by lustalvania (Voidromeda)



Series: a curious angel and his naga [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels, M/M, Naga, Soft Vore, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 03:43:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21487792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voidromeda/pseuds/lustalvania
Summary: There are many things that Shiro is curious about, one of which is very simple: what does it feel like to be swallowed whole by a naga? Thankfully, his lover is willing to indulge him with his odd request.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: a curious angel and his naga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588207
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42





	nonsensical curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> Hey
> 
> I'm sorry, again

It has been a solid three years since Shiro comes down from Heaven to explore the world of mortals, where monsterfolk and mankind roam, and it is at least half a year since he acquaints himself with this specific naga – though it isn’t necessarily as though Shiro does it on _purpose. _Curiosity is a dangerous thing, as God warns them all several times over – _even if your innards are of fire within Heaven, _says God to every newly-made Angel, _they are of flesh and organs on Earth, and you are as strong as you are weak._

He takes some time to understand what it means to walk upon the dirt – his body feels heavier and more grounded, solid in a way that makes him stare at his palms for far too long every single time, seeing images where before there are none. He plucks at his skin and bleeds red when before all that slips out is flame that dissipates, quickly, into ash. It is one of the many fascinating aspects of how his body warps and changes to adjust to the new environment – the atmosphere here chokes him, turns his lungs inside out with the heavy air, and he feels as though his body wishes to constantly crumble underneath the pressure.

Walking on Earth and feeling the dirt beneath his feet for his first few days here is intriguing, riveting, oddly… _entrancing, _and its allure has yet to fade now that Shiro grows accustomed to the world around him. No longer do his newly-created organs struggle to function, even if most of them are vestigial, and no longer is he alone and disconnected from his surroundings.

It is when he stumbles upon a particular monsterfolk, a certain naga, that Shiro begins to understand what it is to be interested in another person and what it means to form relationships naturally, over time, instead of being born with the intimacy and familiarity that is angelhood.

Keith, as he is called, reveals to Shiro how truly devastating and utterly terrifying nagas are – he remembers seeing them being molded, created of nothing and then made into large creatures of half-man half-snake, with allures and charms to ensure that they are capable of eating properly. He remembers hearing of restless angels speaking amongst themselves and wondering why it is that God creates beings that eat humans so violently. They never get an answer, and no one expects one either.

Shiro does not expect one, either. Even for spending as much time as he has with Keith, almost a year, there are some questions one cannot merely ask and expect to get an answer from: _why is it that naga devour humans with such splendour? Are non-sentient beasts not enough? Is it for pleasure, or something else? _

Befriending Keith after revealing to him his wings – many but less than the most, telling those who know of Heaven’s hierarchy what rank he is – becomes an experience in and of itself; for a naga, a creature as long and as strong as he is, Keith reveals himself to be paranoid. He sees all as threats, even those who pose none, and is guarded upon Shiro’s reveal.

“Angel kin don’t often mean good things,” Keith explains to him long after the fact, “angel kin means something terrible is bound to happen. That is what it is, isn’t it?”

It takes a long time for Shiro to convince Keith that he simply wishes to learn but it is wholly worth it to become the naga’s friend, and even better when he gets to feel the magnificent warmth of _adoration _turn into the blazing heat of love. A heat that is stoked by Keith’s own passion, as well, and it always flusters Shiro to know that he finally understands why humans obsess and coo over romance so much. Even still, he can’t stop himself from asking whatever he can from Keith.

He learns that naga culture is all about isolation; each naga lives on their own, though some will form their own ‘pack’ to move as a singular unit. They are often large creatures in length, but not necessarily always large in width – Keith, himself, is a slight figure, though he still poses bigger than Shiro. I is difficult for Keith to answer whether or not he is cold or warm blooded thanks to the duality of his existence. Their scales are smooth and slick, clearly strong, and their skin is even thicker and more durable than that of a human.

It is all so very fascinating, though a newfound fascination pops up thanks to it – as expected, Keith can unhinge his jaw like his non-sentient brethren and often his charms work well enough that he can lure humans in before he devours them to which the illusion falls apart. He watches far too many humans disappear down Keith’s gullet, sliding down his throat and into the fatal abyss that is stomach, to which he can see their spirit fade away for judgement.

Shiro cannot help but wonder.

On a fine afternoon, where Keith lazes in the house Shiro is given as a gift, he poses the question: “I wonder what it’s like to be eaten, sometimes, you know?”

Atop his own tails and as coiled up as he is, Keith pops one lazy, golden eye up to stare at Shiro, and he is slow to rise upon realising that the angel is more serious than he expects him to be. He pops his elbows on his curled up tail, the very apex of his lower body swaying a little in front of him to indicate him paying attention to Shiro. Undaunted by the heavy stare, Shiro continues on, “I’m unable to die by suffocation or acid unless God wishes for me to, and I’ve always wondered what it must be like to be eaten whole.”

Keith finally raises his upper body up proper, propping himself up further with his tail, and he tilts his head. “Do you want me to swallow you?” is what Keith asks after a few moments of deliberation, as if trying to figure out how to best word it, and Shiro hates the way his face flushes bright hot from the bluntness of his words. “I have never had someone request to actually be eaten by me,” Keith muses, though he sounds more confused than amused, “and you… want to do this to…?”

“Sate my curiosity.” Shiro says.

Unbelieving, he murmurs, “of course, ever inquisitive as you are.”

Despite the embarrassment burning all throughout his veins, Shiro soldiers on and asks, “then, will you do it? Will you… um.”

“Eat you?” Keith asks as he goes back to curling in on himself, “I’ll do it later, when I’m not tired. Why don’t you rest and prepare yourself for this, Shiro? You can have what you want later.”

Later comes in the form of the next day, as Keith spends the entirety of the previous sleeping or slithering out to get actual food. Shiro’s indestructibility, Keith rationalises, means his body will not be benefitting from eating him which makes sense to Shiro. They meet up after Keith finishes his hunt and rests to let his belly work, making sure that there is nothing unpleasant for Shiro when he does what it is that he desires.

“You will be fine, won’t you?” Keith asks once more to be sure, despite asking it twenty times already, and Shiro reassures him, again, that yes, he will be fine, he won’t die. Keith grabs him by the waist, lifting him up carefully, and it is then that he feels so much smaller than he really is. He manoeuvres around so it is more as if he is laying upon Keith’s hands, legs stretching out over his arms, and Keith lifts him up higher.

Briefly, he feels something trickle in almost as if from behind his eyes, spreading all throughout his mind, and his eyelids flutter from the disorientating, prickly sensation. It hits him, briefly, that this is what Keith’s prey feel to make them relax and come closer to him under their own tricked consent. It is fascinating how such things work, Shiro thinks groggily, though his thoughts are quick to be swept away as Keith licks at his teeth and then opens his mouth wide, jaw unhinging to show off long tongue and let it curl outwards.

His mouth is wet, saliva sticking to his upper and lower teeth in thin, sticky strands. His tongue, long and forked, glistens with drool, some of it dripping down his chin in Keith’s attempt to show to Shiro what it is that he is getting into. His uvula hangs at the back of mouth, hovering over a long, crimson abyss that taunts and threatens him with what it hides far below.

Beneath him, Keith’s mouth glistens and stays open, and Shiro takes a second, only a moment, to consider whether or not to go through with this and he nods. Almost immediately, Keith lowers him down to his tongue and cushions his body with the moist muscle, flattening it out to try and cover as much surface as possible, and Shiro shivers from the sticky, wet feeling of it all. A slender finger presses down against him and slowly pushes at him, Keith tilting his head back just before he closes his mouth around Shiro once his tongue is completely in his mouth, as well as the angel himself.

Darkness surrounds him, as well as some sort of pungent smell as Keith belches into his own mouth, briefly, from what Shiro assumes is the final parts of his body’s digestion. His nose curls, his stomach lurching from the stench that he cannot pinpoint his fingers on – whatever the odour is, it definitely is something from the depths of Keith’s stomach.

He yelps in surprise when Keith’s tongue begins to move, rolling around him to bathe him completely in saliva, and Shiro closes his eyes to avoid any fluid getting into his eyes. His clothes grow wet with Keith’s tasting him, the movement pressing him up into his cheek before he is lulled and rolled backwards. He slides down Keith’s long tongue, stopping just before the plummet.

The pause doesn’t last long.

Shiro begins to roll down as Keith starts to swallow and the moment he is in his throat he feels his muscles squeeze and press down onto his body, crushingly tight yet overwhelming smooth, rhythmic and deliberate as he is pushed down. _Peristaltic movement, _Shiro manages to recall, something that he remembers reading from human books as they try to figure out what makes the body work. _It’s peristaltic movement taking me down so easily, working so smoothly. _The slide down is painless, if not a bit stifling, uncomfortable, but nothing to cause him actual agony. Keith’s throat is hot, warm – almost soothing, with how his muscles roll gently along his body, pressing down and rubbing across him.

If it is any other touch then Shiro is certain that it will have lulled him to sleep.

Darkness surrounds him still, hiding away his surroundings, not letting him know what the walls around him look like, properly. He takes a deep breath and releases it out in a flurried gasp as he takes a deep plunge into Keith’s stomach, falling onto a squishy, almost silky surface when he falls into his belly proper. He moves and squelching noises follow near immediately, and Shiro has to stop his deliberate breathing as to avoid the sulphuric odour of Keith’s stomach. It isn’t as if he needs to really breathe, anyway, as he adopts the habit only to blend in with the rest of sentient life.

Now, however, it will serve him well to stop the pretense and merely accept being in this fleshy, slick prison. He shifts and presses his feet down against the fleshy walls of Keith’s stomach, feet sliding across the surface and he jolts when he slips a little further onto his back. Fluid splashes around him from his slide, his body submerging further into what he assumes is gastric juices. The digestive acid burns through his clothes and he hisses when they fall upon his flesh, leaving behind marks from their attempts to break through his skin.

_“Shiro?” _Keith speaks, his voice odd and almost echoing thanks to it coming from somewhere within Keith’s body. Shiro sits up proper, though he cannot help but feel bizarre in this situation. _“You’re fine, aren’t you? Nothing is going to happen to you?”_

He huffs, trying not to laugh. “Yes,” he says, his magic projecting his voice outwards so that Keith can hear him, “don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

If anything, he feels almost sleepy now that he is in the warmth that is Keith’s stomach, but he makes sure not to say that. Instead, he simply reassures Keith that he will let him know if he wants to get out. Though, if Shiro will be quietly honest, he really doesn’t want to be regurgitated out of Keith’s belly just simply because of how gross it sounds.

But Shiro is the one who makes his bed, and now he is the one who has to lie in it.


End file.
